And The Fools Still Dance
by oolong.tea.fanatic
Summary: A picture gone viral of Roderich playing the piano in an abandoned Hapsburg castle brings him closer to his ex-husband. He is surprised to find himself falling in love with Antonio once again, but he falls, and keeps on falling. ((SpaAus, Modern day))
1. Prologue and long author's note

A Spaniard asks an Austrian at one party,

"Sire Edelstein, why are you not dancing? Is my party not enjoyable?"

The Austrian replies,

"It is not so, Sire. Just the strain of the corset around my waist."

The Spaniard raises an eyebrow and remarks,

"If that is so, may I inquire why you have downed five shots of liquor? I too understand how you are jealous of the youth, yet, is this not too much?"

To that, the Austrian bitterly states,

"Jealously consumes my soul, and I plan on letting it consume my soul until my dying day."

The Spaniard smiles.

"Death is too hard for me to comprehend. Shall we dance instead?"

* * *

A/N: I've fallen into SpaAus hell and I can't climb back up... It's been a while since I've published, and this is my first SpaAus, so I know it's going to be one of my worst works so far, and extremely OOC, but please bear with me!

There's less banter in Spain and Austria's relationship compared to France and England's, and I'm still trying to get used to the "sexual tension without arguing" concept... I personally portray Spain as sly and calculating, and this fanfic would focus on a sadistic Spain and a surprisingly naive but tsundere Austria who is unsuspectingly controlled by S Spain does.

Please leave comments and likes! The sad capybara controlling my brain is driven by comments! Thank you!


	2. Spain's sass is as classy as his ass

Thank you, vaguelyaperson, for a kind comment!

* * *

The picture gone viral was one of a "poltergeist" playing a piano.

It was a snapshot of a young man with a serene expression gracing his delicate face. Tears formed in the corners of the man's hyacinth eyes, settling on his long eyelashes. Caught on camera in a secluded Hapsburg castle, he wore authentic 18th century attire tattered around the edges. The spirit's carmine lips were tightened in concentration, and he emanated a mystical air that could only be one of a deity.

People soon found out there were portraits of the ghostly figure in the castle. His name was Roderich Edelstein, and he had been an advisor to numerous Austrian emperors of different eras. Remaining youthful in the numerous artworks of him, Roderich was soon dubbed the Immortal Aristocrat.

When Antonio read of the "ghost" occupying the castle, he started to shake uncontrollably with his trademark fusoso laughter. He was quickly silenced by his boss, who then berated him for checking twitter during a conference on Spain's future. Antonio nodded, raised his legs onto a table and went back to his twitter account, ignoring the many pairs of eyes maliciously glaring at him.

Antonio loves being a country, for it excuses him of most things that could get him fired.

Walking out of the conference, Antonio called a certain ill-humored Austrian, who picked up with a monotonous, "What do you want?"

"What a kind way to respond to your former husband." Antonio joked. "I didn't know you still owned that coat."

There was an audible sigh and the sound of plastic hitting plastic. Antonio imagined Roderich playing with the cords of the old telephone that he insists on using, his face a mask of indifference that could only be read after over half a century of living together.

"Germany and Italy found it when they were cleaning out the storage room."

Antonio snorted at the mental image of Ludwig and Feliciano rushing around and cleaning Roderich's storage room as Roderich sat on a couch and ordered them around, teacup in hand.

"It's a very beautiful coat. I couldn't let it go to waste." Roderich explained, yet, both countries knew that was not the cause.

"So you decided to go to the castle in said coat. It is in a very secluded area, no wonder the coat became so tattered." The arrogance in Antonio's voice make Roderich's legs weak. The dark-haired, germanic nation does not know how the words seem so refined and compelling, and does not care to know.

"Pray tell me how you ended up playing piano at such a godforsaken hour. You looked extremely into it, Rodrigo. Did you miss me?"

"You're extremely cocky today, aren't you, Spain?" Roderich splutters. "We did promise not to step over the line once again."

"And you promised that you would not wear anything of that era, did you not?"

"I know you still wear our engagement ring as a necklace-"

"-That was not part of our deal."

As always, Antonio is always one step ahead, and as always, when he knows he's won, he's the living incarnation of satan's butthole.

"Who would read that long paper you typed up in the first place; I just skipped a few parts, that is all. Obviously, you have had errors in your lifetime as well? Miscalculations, such as that one time where you tried to pin me down onto the bed, but we accidentally ended up doing it on the floor because you couldn't tell the distance?" Roderich starts to ramble. He stops when he realizes what he's said is sexual, and then blushes. The Austrian is glad that Antonio cannot see him, although he assumes that the other country knows what goes on.

"That did not make any sense. You're mannerisms haven't changed since the 17th century." Antonio says, a hint of nostalgia in his voice. It makes Roderich want to hold his past lover.

"I sometimes do miss your compa-" Roderich starts, to be cut off what sounds like a sob.

"Well, I'm going to go because I'm going drinking with Prussia and France. Meet you at the castle tomorrow at 10. Wear the coat." Antonio shakily demands.

"I haven't agreed to anything-" Roderich sighs once again as Antonio abruptly hangs up, leaving him to question his choice in men.

The next day, however, Roderich is at the castle before Antonio is even awake.

* * *

Chapter 1 is done! So many spelling errors, punctuation mistakes, et cetra, I'm sorry!

It may seem a bit rushed, and it is, but I'll try to go back to smooth things as I go along with the story!

Please give me criticism, I would like to improve my writing!


	3. Antonio is tone-deaf lolol

Thank you so much, Nadia, for the comment! I'm flattered that this work is a good read! Thank you for the advise! I will try to make the two have more interactions before they do the do! This too is a bit rushed, but I am very glad that this is getting you believe in Spaaus!

* * *

Roderich and Antonio meet up at the grand ballroom of the castle. The sight of a faded man underneath rusted chandeliers greets Antonio when he opens the chamber's rickety doors.

"Woah! Beautiful!" Cries Antonio sarcastically when he greets his former love. Roderich rolls his eyes, and walks over to the spaniard, embarrassment evident in rosy pink cheeks. Roderich is ready to berate the irksome man for arriving half a hour late, but then takes in the attire the other adorns, which irritate him for a entirely different reason.

Antonio is wearing a faded t-shirt, baggy jeans, and a formerly white pair of sneakers that trails mud into the ancient castle. The curly mop of hair tousled upon his head implies a recent long and comfortable sleep. Roderich, in his all of his 18th century glory, feels that he has been cheated of some deal akin to the treaty of Versailles.

"You look quite modern, do you not?" Roderich's tone rivals the intensity of Belarus', making Antonio shudder.

"Scary Austria is _so_ scary! I didn't mean to make you angry!" Antonio jokes. His facade is as innocuous as a 5-year-old youth receiving a balloon. The authenticity of the grin makes Roderich almost wonder why the man has not yet fooled anyone into becoming his lover. Antonio's stay with the Benelux family comes to mind, and with it, a slightly sour expression.

Antonio knows Roderich too well, their train of thought eerily similar.

"Jealousy is not a good trait, Sire Edelstein." Spain had always read his expression like a open Beethoven piece.

Amidst the chaotic collapse of the Habsburg empire, Austria had a short affair with his childhood friend, Switzerland. It was a physical fling, yet, it had slightly softened the aloof person everyone assumed was heartless. Spain had lead Austria to a secluded room, and then tearfully asked his lawfully wedded partner wether he was not enough. A "you are perfect." that would have fooled any other did not persuade Spain, who left the room with a pained expression on his face.

"Jealously is indeed not a good trait, Sir." Roderich replies in a defiant way, and Antonio almost says _I love you when you're like this_ , but doesn't, for he knows the tears these words would bring.

"Jealously consumes my soul." Antonio jokes. " And I plan on letting it consume my soul until the very end."

Roderich fumbles.

"I was drunk."

"Perfectly excusable. You had drunk, was it 4 shots of liquor?"

"Five." Roderich reminisces bitterly.

"Well, all of this talk of the past pains me. I am too dull to remember. Shall we dance instead?"

"But there is no music,"

"Let us improvise."

With Antonio's off-tune but fitting rendition of Mozart, the two dance a small waltz. Roderich leans slightly on Antonio's shoulder, letting the other man lead him around the vacant ballroom. Their heartbeats are one, and it feels as though they are transported back in time.

"You have always been a horrible musician."

Antonio rolls his eyes at the absented-minded remark and mutters something about how he's never lost his way in a supermarket.

"I however, am a wonderful musician. I can't be completely perfect, can I?" Roderich replies in that haughty way of his.

"You're perfectly imperfect." Antonio points out.

"And you're imperfectly perfect." Roderich snarks back.

The time they spend arguing feels perfectly perfect, although the duo would say otherwise.

* * *

Chapter 2 is done! Thank you once again for the comments, this lonely hermit is very happy to be receiving such kind words! Criticism is always appreciated!


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